


Home Is Where The Heart Is: Dawn.

by fishcakesarnie



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dive into the heart, Gen, Post-Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, Pre-Kingdom Hearts III, Riku (Kingdom Hearts) In Love, Riku's Heart Station, Station Of Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishcakesarnie/pseuds/fishcakesarnie
Summary: A dive into the heart; Riku visits his Heart Station and looks back on the boy he was and discovers the young man he will become.





	Home Is Where The Heart Is: Dawn.

Home Is Where The Heart Is 

Dawn 

 

It's dark, and I'm falling. Not a plummeting sensation with the panic and gut-wrenching fear of the inevitable crash at the bottom, more the gentle descent of a loose leaf on a still day - slow and calm with purpose.

 

A dream? Hmm...not quite.

 

There's a light coming from somewhere. In my head-first descent I carefully cast about, my minuscule movements gently altering the twist and set of my body. I quickly realise it's me, my whole body is aglow - the light in this dark abyss.

A comforting warmth creeps over me, steadily enveloping me as I drift. This feels so familiar.

A low thrum like a drawn note on a cello answers my hazy recognition, and as I twist a little in its direction I see a dim halo glowing ahead of me - nowhere near as strong as my own light but brightening the nearer I get. I move a little more to right myself as the note continues to resonate around me and through me, and after the sound has made a complete circuit of my body I feel a gentle tug in my chest. I'm being reeled in closer and faster, a joy and sense of belonging filling my heart as the halo - now below me - fills at the same pace.

I know where I am now. My feet are eager to touch down, and I can't help but smile as I finally land at the edge as the glowing halo becomes a complete disc.

 

It's my heart.

I'm home.

 

The glow scatters like petals fleeing the greater, blueish light that was contained underneath. I shield myself against the flurry and close my eyes, my skin tingling from feather-light kisses of the parting glows. I wait a little after the sensation has died before I open my eyes.

 

The first thing I notice is my shoes. White and blue, slip on. A quiet part of my mind notes how small they are, and how I haven't worn them in years...the rest of my mind is more concerned with the loop that's tucked into the heel of my shoe and I bend to right it ('striped wristbands', the quiet part annoyingly notes), and I calmly rationalise that my early childhood appearance is completely natural; it is a dream, after all. I feel strangely buoyant as if freed of a weight that I'd been carrying for who-knows how long, a freedom of childhood. As I straighten I survey the station that stretches out at my feet.

 

A giant keyblade - my keyblade - perfectly divides the stained-glass floor, piercing an elegant silver heart motif that lays in the centre. I'm stood at Way To The Dawn's very point, the white feathered wing that flicks out from the curving bat wing blade and draws my attention to an illuminated portrait encircled by a white border. I quickly glance about me, spying four additional rings scattered around the edge of my station - a black halo that also appears to be filled as well as blue, yellow and red, but those appear to be empty. The rest of my heart's station is cast in a stormy blue colour, and it pulses a gentle rhythm.

Turning my gaze back to the small white halo I instantly recognise the face looking curiously out, large eyes set with the hint of a frown and plump cheeks of childhood - a perfect reflection of my appearance. 'A boy who wishes to protect precious things', I think to myself.

My eyes flick to the opposite black halo, and it brightens at my attention. The next stage of my life glows in my presence, a few years older than the other depiction - the curiosity replaced with smugness, eyebrow cocked a little and lips set in a cat-like smile. He has a daring look about him and it matches his want for more -  a desire to seek greater things with his friend at his side. I want to edge closer to it, to inspect it further, when something else grabs my attention.

 

My eyes travel back to the central heart, and I'm surprised to see a black-framed window at the point of the heart. The figure of a boy is stood on the other side, an equal distance away, and flinches back in shock as I do when we notice each other.

It takes longer than it should for me to realise it's not a window but more of a mirror with an inaccurate reflection. I recognise the distant figure, and the boy and I relax simultaneously. I check myself - still a child - before returning back to the young teenager in my reflection.  It's me...will be me...was also me.

The stained-glass portrait doesn't do him justice; the silver hair is a little longer and he's taller than I am with an air of confidence in himself and his growing body, green eyes aglow with mischief and a stubborn resolution.

I can't help but judge his attire - whilst the classic yellow vest remained a nod to my youngest self's tastes despite the striking 'x' crossing his chest, the blue waders and oversized water-shoes are certainly an...interesting choice.

As I peer at him he copies my small movements of inquisitiveness - a tilt of the head, a little side-shuffle - and I can't help myself as I let out a small chuckle. He breaks the perfect mirroring as he instead gives me a haughty smirk and laughs back.

That irks me.

Our laughter freezes simultaneously.

Man, I was a bit of a jerk.

 

We step towards each other, his calm smugness contrasting with my open curiosity as I take him in. Where the younger part of me looks on in admiration and wonder at this image of strength the older me remembers the bright spark of joy shared, and how quickly that spark had nearly died during that fateful storm on the Destiny Islands. I know the hurt he'll soon face.

I want to reassure the youth staring back at me, tell him that despite the trials and guilt he'll make it through his journey stronger and more sure of himself than ever, that the pain won't last although it'll feel like it stretches for an eternity...that he needn't fear losing his best friend.

...but the split of my mind jumbles the words that never come. We regard each other for another quiet moment, then his cocky expression cracks suddenly, sobering as he speaks to me;

 

"What is it that you're so afraid of?"

 

I start back at the break in the silence, then his question sinks in; I almost want to laugh again, thinking of the last dive I did and the same question asked. It's a little unoriginal.

The answer flows immediately to mind;

 

'Losing someone important.'

 

...but before I can even open my mouth the other me is stepping swiftly forward, suddenly breaking through the mirror. I stumble back further in surprise, and his hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, tugging me upright as I regain my balance. The beat we share seems to stretch out as I look up at him, wondering where the charismatic boy from a minute ago has gone - the shine of confidence has disappeared, clouded with guilt.

He can't seem to hold my gaze for long, and as loosens his grip and looks away his body begins to glow and spread like fireflies. The cloud pulses as steady as a heartbeat before rushing at me, swarming around and through me in a blinding light.

 

It takes me a second to recover and I try to blink the glare away, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes, resetting my vision through the stars.

Something's different, a mystery itch that begs to be scratched.

I pull my hands away, staring hard at the black cropped gloves that weren't there a moment ago. I turn my hands this way and that, mind racing to figure it out. The change in clothing would be the obvious answer, but that's not quite it. I look down at myself as my hand rakes thoughtfully through a longer head of hair. It's a dream, I remind myself, this is completely normal.

I take a deep breath through my teenage set of lungs, and realise what's really changed; the weight that had been missing in my younger self has returned, latching onto my heart and moving restlessly in my chest like a caged bird. I'm tainted by Darkness once again.

I clench my fists at my sides, trying to ignore that familiar beat of lurking dark power as I eye up my station once more - the white and black halos glow faintly behind me, and as my gaze focuses ahead of me another flares into life. I'm already suspicious of this portrait as I step closer.

 

More ageing and change - a familiar face turning away, long hair falling carelessly over his shoulders that adds more years than it should, and whilst I cannot read the eyes that are bound in a single strip of black cloth the portrait seems...sad. I know there's guilt there too, and a reluctance to face the ones he cares about.

But why do I linger here? What does my heart want to show me? I move closer, determined to solve this puzzle of myself.

 

The moment I reach the centre of the curling heart another frame materialises almost instantly in front of me, and I'm confronted with another phantom of myself. The boy from the blue halo.

His sudden closeness makes me jump (why am I so jumpy?!), and I edge back warily. He doesn't opt to mirror me.

The change between selves is far more striking in him, especially considering he's only had a year of growth. He's broader, taller, more young-man than boy in not only his looks but in his stance too - a straight back that gives more of an air of calm readiness than that of the proud, pigeon-chested stance that I have naturally fallen into. He's only made more imposing with the long black overcoat and black gloves that cover him - there's hardly any trace of the boy he used to be.

 

My split mind tussles between past impressions and hindsight; the younger half seeing an intimidating presence and power, my true half seeing the emotional scars left from a lonely internal struggle that was endured for a year.

I admire him. I pity him.

It's impossible to tell what he's thinking as he looks coolly back at me; although his eyes are hidden I know his sharp focus is trained on me, and I flinch a little at his penetrating gaze. Does he pity his younger self too? What words of comfort would he want to offer?

His voice is low as he suddenly cuts through my thoughts;

 

"What is the one thing you care about more than anything else?"

 

I'm not so hasty with my answer this time. I'm almost hesitant to think it, I can imagine what's coming next.

 

'My close friends'.

 

His movements are slower than last time, carefully stepping through the mirror and squaring up to me. He's...so tall, not quite towering over me but I still find myself uncharacteristically shy in his presence. He puts a hand on my shoulder, and I'm surprised as he gives it a gentle squeeze; the unexpected smile that accompanies it is sad as he starts to glow and disperse. I close my eyes and take him in.

 

My eyes quickly snap back open, but my vision is obscured, bound by that strip of shame. The change is immediately noticeable - the wave of turmoil isn't easily forgotten and certainly wasn't something I'd missed.

Where the previous me had gladly let the Darkness almost carry him away, this me had tried to fight it tooth and nail, and the Darkness had fought back viciously. I cry out as my chest immediately feels like it's being crushed and my stomach lurches, sick from the increased weight of it; the bird has gotten bigger and hungrier, too small for the cage that contains it as it thrashes about. I instinctively try to suppress the Darkness that's trying to crawl its way out but its movements only grow more frantic. The feeling worsens and I immediately realise my mistake as I collapse to all fours.

Idiot.

I'd tried to suppress it before and it didn't work the first time. I need to ignore my shame, remove my blindfold and accept myself. I know I can handle it.

I close my eyes.

 

'Embrace the Darkness like you do the Light,' I remind myself as I steady my breathing. 'Walk hand in hand as you walk the road to dawn.'

 

I tear the blindfold from my eyes and immediately gasp with relief as the weight of Darkness and my guilt immediately shifts, spreading to balance evenly across my shoulders. Eyes still closed I pull off one of my gloves and brace myself for the next change in appearance.

I peek down at my open palm.

I was expecting the dark, fleshy hand of Ansem - the mask of not only my tormentor but countless others - so the sight of my calloused warrior's hand is a comforting relief. I choke out a laugh as I pull my other glove off as well, shoving the discards in my pocket and staring at the moonlight glow of my skin. I even wiggle my fingers as if to confirm it's still me. A short laugh escapes again.

It felt a little too easy this time, to grasp Darkness in one hand and Light in the over and to come through unchanged. Maybe it was enough to have paid that price once, or maybe it was my quick acceptance that made the difference. Either way, it was done and I quickly shrug it off.

Dreams are weird.

 

It's not necessary to look too long at the yellow-haloed portrait, I can already see who's waiting for me. Suspended at the edge of my station, an easy arm-length beyond the empty red halo is the figure of the dreamer who'd started this dive - me. I instantly recognise the shorter hair, zipped vests layered one over the other exposing muscular arms, trousers hanging loose around his legs. There's no sign of the year's struggles he's encountered besides the bandage on his wrist - he's relaxed in his stance, as if he'd long since acknowledged his trials and simply looked forward to enjoying life on a day-to-day basis.

With a deep breath I stride forward, sure of myself, ready to return to my current, true self and face whatever he has in store for me.

I don't give him time to speak;

 

'I wish to recover something important,' I think - a little impatiently - to myself. We both know the score by now.

 

The other me sighs and shakes his head, laughing softly and asks;

 

"Who is it that matters most?"

 

I wasn't expecting that. I frown back, a little confused. What does he know that I don't?

He barely gives me time to think as he carefully reaches through the mirror and holds out his hand to me. I glance from his hand to the broadening, encouraging smile on his face before returning to his hand; he beckons and I gingerly take it and step forward and through, light searing once again through my eyelids as I pass through the glass.

 

There's a coolness that caresses my skin as I open my eyes. I'm expecting much of the same but I instead find myself blinking in the blazing sunlight, stood thigh-deep in the sea. The warm water is a glittering turquoise under the noon sun, the sound of waves breaking on the shore mingles with distant bird calls and the air is thick with the sweet smell of the Destiny Islands - sea salt, sand and a heavy earthy foliage. I know it intimately, and as I breathe it in I realise how tense I've been. With each slow inhale and exhale my muscles ease and I close my eyes to take in the peace.

Although I feel like the Destiny Islands - imaginary or not - isn't my home anymore I feel so welcome here.

 

A rumble breaks through my reverie, and I startle suddenly at the thought of a storm...but with my eyes open I see nothing but light and a pure, clear sky.

I hear the rumble again but it's softer this time. Another long, drawn out note like the first one I heard in this dive. I imagine I can hear words under the tone and strain to listen.

 

_You know what you desire._

 

_You have the power that you sought._

 

_You know who you are._

 

The tide suddenly shifts, rapidly fleeing the shore behind me. Although the flow of water is strong I don't need to fight it, and as I stand still a memory comes to mind.

 

It's a scene from over a year ago that's visited me often; the day I decided to dive the waves whilst fishing. I'd gotten pretty good at catching fish with my bare hands but had quickly grown tired of it that day and had swapped to swimming, floating and diving in the sea instead. I'd tried to hold in my excitement when a particularly large wave steadily came towards me, and had been calmly waiting for the right moment to dive when I heard him call me. I'd turned to see him stood on the shoreline, pointing, panicked at the approaching wave, and I'd smiled back and held up a hand to reassure him; I was a strong swimmer, I could handle it.

The idiot had somehow taken that as an invitation and had come sprinting towards me, groping for my outstretched hand. We were both wiped out by the wave and nearly swept away in the current, and we later found ourselves sprawled out on the beach, clinging to each other and howling with laughter in our sea-salt coughing fits.

 

Wasn't this just a trip down memory lane? I reminder of who I was and what I'd done? How did _he_ factor into all of this?

I immediately know that's a ridiculous question to ask. It's always been about him - the boy who had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember, who I'd become inseparable from, who I wanted to travel all of the worlds with, for whom I'd torn our very home apart and for who I'd do anything for. I'd dived into his heart - twice - to save him, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

 

_Who is it that matters most?_ The voice echoes.

 

I feel stupid for hesitating to answer it earlier. The wave is now almost upon me as I eagerly turn around to face the shore, and my heart is ready to burst when I see it.

A light lingers on the edge of the shore, glittering impatiently as it waits.

I smile and hold out my hands, the answer loud on my lips.

 

"Sora."

 

He doesn't hesitate. Sora's light shoots towards me with a surprising speed and I gladly welcome him, arms folding around the light as he knocks me backwards into the approaching wave.

 

I expect to be crushed between the speed of Sora's light and the force of the wave, or to drown as the wave breaks over me. I instead continue to fall backwards, lazily spiraling downwards through the darkening blue and back into the darkness, though the gentle glow of my body lights my way. The light cradled in my arms is growing smaller and for a moment I panic that it's disappearing until I realise it's pressing into my chest and entering me, becoming a part of my own light. I welcome Sora's warmth gladly with a deep sigh.

 

My fall feels different this time around, as if I've not succumb to gravity but am instead following a gentle undercurrent in the depths of the ocean. I let myself be carried along, embraced by the warm tide. I spy another station looming out of the dark haze, and that soul-deep rich tone calls out to me, the vibration that I feel rattling my bones tells me it's mine.

The stained-glass design has completely changed from the station of awakening I'd just visited; gone is the silver heart, multiple portraits, striking keyblade and varied shades of blue that coloured the image, instead a plethora of colours shine through the darkness, encircled by a thin band of red. I recognise the curling filigree halves of Mirage Split and Nightmare's End set into the background and spreading out like wings, catching the light from somewhere and refracting it in multiple directions.

The differences in my portrait are unfamiliar to me, and I wonder with excitement how soon I'll become this person; he's floating in a cat-like curl, tucked into the curving blues of Mirage Split, wearing a blue short-sleeved jacket and cropped trousers with black-and-white gingham details and a stripe of yellow blazing on his shoulders. His silver hair is cropped shorter and spikier and still frames those familiar green eyes - eyes half closed and downcast with an expression that I can't quite place. I don't recognise the keyblade that sits easily in his right hand - heavy-looking and half-again bigger than my other keyblade, but somehow more fitting to him.

It takes me a moment to see what's in the other hand, and a moment longer to comprehend it.

 

A large, deep red crystal heart is tucked - no, cradled - against my likeness' chest. I immediately know it's certainly not mine, my own heart leaping as I recognise the unmistakable crown emblazoned in the heart's lead-work. The left hand is relaxed, holding Sora's heart steady in place against his chest as he rests his cheek on its smooth surface. There's a swelling in my chest as I take in the look of bliss on his outward-looking face - so full of love and purpose. He looks more at peace and complete than I have ever felt as he protects what matters most to him. I drink in the image, wanting to sear it into my heart and memory, my final goal of who I want to be.

 

Why did it take me so long to see? It was so clear now that throughout my life I'd always strived for more; strength, possibilities, forgiveness...they were all for and from Sora - the one I had to be better than, the one who was always there for me, the one who could never hate me, the one who I had to protect. The one I love.

However far away this future me is at least he's found his true purpose, and it comforts me that I know one day I'll have it too.

 

My station is so close now, and I know I'll awaken soon.

 

I wonder if I'll remember any of this in the morning. I hope that at least my purpose will be somewhere in my subconscious, tucked safely away, waiting to be realised or remembered.

 

When the time comes I'll be ready.

 

With a final smile I finally return to my heart's station, and I wake up.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> We've seen Sora's Heart Station a few times in the series as we influence the character we'll fight and grow as. I wondered what Riku's visit to his own heart would look like, and I liked to think of the changes his station would go through as he realises how much he has grown. Of course it's thanks to the events in 'Dream Drop Distance' that he finds "the strength to protect what matters", but maybe he needs a little more help outside of a dream to truly realise it!  
> I'd like to revisit The Station Of Awakening again...at least with Kairi, we'll see what happens!  
> This is the first finished piece of writing I've done in years so it's a bit special to me. Here's (hopefully!) to many (or a just few!) more.  
>   
> Special thanks to The Sailor for encouraging/bullying me in to writing and to The Companion for inspiring me to write about and share what I love.


End file.
